Esme
The Hatbox Empress/Retired Admin
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Appearance: (Anime and Die)
Biography:
Other:
Age:
Gender:
Appearance: (Anime and Die)
Biography:
Other:
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What Fools These Mortals Be
- Thread starter Esme
- Start date
ErisianDialects
The Purple Sage
Name: Milo. Just Milo.
Age: 50
Gender: Male
Appearance: <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/Milo.jpg.5f11d74c88dc520e351f253141fc9801.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="14558" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/Milo.jpg.5f11d74c88dc520e351f253141fc9801.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Biography: Some people are born to greatness, others have greatness thrust upon them. Some of us get pushed through a personal hell to be who we are. Not much in my childhood. My father died in a freak accident when I was what, eight? Something like that. He was a longshoreman, and he had a crate fall down, crushing him. Whoever said fruits were healthy would get a kick out of that. On the plus side, he always did make a good fruit salad. My mother ended up going to Australia after I turned 18, lived near the big sheep, or prawn, or whatever they've got in Coff's Harbour. Strange country, visited her there once when she was dying. Surrounded by half siblings I never knew about. Mind you, they didn't know about me, so it came as somewhat of a surprise when I arrived. Living in the shadow of the big C as well as the big Banana.
I did moderately well in my life, but then, spending most of your time sitting on a boat, taking coked up yuppies out for a day of fishing, which then turned to small families wanting to go to some island or scuba diving in the Med looking for Atlantis. Never needed more than one ship to do that. Tours, where I can pick and choose who to show what. I mean, I've done my fair bit of plundering of a few old ruins in my time, as did my forefathers, all the way back to Autolycus, who my father insisted he descended from. Of course, he's not the only one who used to say that about my family. A little peddling of small antiquities that I've stumbled across was what founded my business in the 80's. I don't get on well with either side of my family for the most part, it's rare I feel the urge when they throw their parties, even these days. I almost regret not settling down, but I think there's a couple of bastards floating around out there. No regrets, however.
If they need me, they'd of found me.
A little wine, a few women, a little song and dance. Never going too far, not as young as I once was, it makes it harder to hide from annoyed husbands and pregnant women, but the few dalliances I have these days mostly come from the bottle after a good day of rorting the tourists. The family seem to know the most annoying time to try and get freebies out of me, but I persevere in the face of their difficulties, helping out when and how I can. Generally I will take them out for a day of fishing and talk, perhaps leaving them on an island drunk if they annoy me too much. But I usually pick them up before they drown. All in all, I've lived a good life, and I look forward to seeing where it goes, never making set plans if I can help it, being as changing as the ocean I love.
Other: Remarkably unreliable for plans over a week in the making, but always has a remarkably good excuse. Refuses to admit how lonely he is, if he is. Gets extremely antsy when away from his boat for too long.
Age: 50
Gender: Male
Appearance: <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/Milo.jpg.5f11d74c88dc520e351f253141fc9801.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="14558" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/Milo.jpg.5f11d74c88dc520e351f253141fc9801.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Biography: Some people are born to greatness, others have greatness thrust upon them. Some of us get pushed through a personal hell to be who we are. Not much in my childhood. My father died in a freak accident when I was what, eight? Something like that. He was a longshoreman, and he had a crate fall down, crushing him. Whoever said fruits were healthy would get a kick out of that. On the plus side, he always did make a good fruit salad. My mother ended up going to Australia after I turned 18, lived near the big sheep, or prawn, or whatever they've got in Coff's Harbour. Strange country, visited her there once when she was dying. Surrounded by half siblings I never knew about. Mind you, they didn't know about me, so it came as somewhat of a surprise when I arrived. Living in the shadow of the big C as well as the big Banana.
I did moderately well in my life, but then, spending most of your time sitting on a boat, taking coked up yuppies out for a day of fishing, which then turned to small families wanting to go to some island or scuba diving in the Med looking for Atlantis. Never needed more than one ship to do that. Tours, where I can pick and choose who to show what. I mean, I've done my fair bit of plundering of a few old ruins in my time, as did my forefathers, all the way back to Autolycus, who my father insisted he descended from. Of course, he's not the only one who used to say that about my family. A little peddling of small antiquities that I've stumbled across was what founded my business in the 80's. I don't get on well with either side of my family for the most part, it's rare I feel the urge when they throw their parties, even these days. I almost regret not settling down, but I think there's a couple of bastards floating around out there. No regrets, however.
If they need me, they'd of found me.
A little wine, a few women, a little song and dance. Never going too far, not as young as I once was, it makes it harder to hide from annoyed husbands and pregnant women, but the few dalliances I have these days mostly come from the bottle after a good day of rorting the tourists. The family seem to know the most annoying time to try and get freebies out of me, but I persevere in the face of their difficulties, helping out when and how I can. Generally I will take them out for a day of fishing and talk, perhaps leaving them on an island drunk if they annoy me too much. But I usually pick them up before they drown. All in all, I've lived a good life, and I look forward to seeing where it goes, never making set plans if I can help it, being as changing as the ocean I love.
Other: Remarkably unreliable for plans over a week in the making, but always has a remarkably good excuse. Refuses to admit how lonely he is, if he is. Gets extremely antsy when away from his boat for too long.
Attachments
Esme
The Hatbox Empress/Retired Admin
Name: Melissa Hitcher
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Biography: Mel had an interesting childhood. She knew her parents for a total of 7 years, before they came to the conclusion they didn't want her and in one of her only memories left from that time period, dropped her off at a place calling it a "School" and never coming back. The school, in actuality, was an orphanage, and it was the closest she had to a home for 11 years.
Within that time period, Mel was bounced out of a few possibly adoptions as something always came up that "Wasn't quite right." One of the possibles however, introduced her to the thought of art as a method of living and that was a large thing that stuck with her when she finally stepped out on her own into the world.
When she hit 18, she left the orphanage, still on her own. She supported herself doing a few odd jobs before working up the courage to attempt attending an art school. With the aid of the government for funding, and a lot of scholarships she managed to get in and attend a low ball school to get a degree in Fine Arts.
In her second year, her drawing class managed to rent out a boat to take the decently small class out to some untouched islands for the sake of drawing. These little trips happened four times, and in the end, Mel had felt comfortable enough with the man running the ship to to just pop by on her own though she wasn't sure why.
During the summer between semesters, she had asked, in other words offered to pay, the man if he would drop her off on an island for a weekend so she could get some extra drawing stuff before the new semester. Half way there he had made a comment on about the water seeming a bit rough, and her response had been innocent enough.
"What's the worst that could happen?"
As it turns out, a lot could. After the man had dropped her out on the island, a typhoon had broke out. Seeking shelter from the storm, with raising waves that were crashing into the tree line, she moved inwards, following a path like strip done by animals. Some where along the way she had spotted an alcove and made a climb for it on the slicked rocks. That was when the lightning had struck, nailing into her like a demon banshee, and sending her down the rocks where instead of being met with pain, she was met with a sense of nothingness.
What happened next was something of fate and rarely, if ever, is spoken about. But it was the moment that she was greeted by her goddess, embraced into a family she didn't know she had. Now, at 23, Mel has adjusted to the loss of her legs and the need to use a wheelchair, and despite the complications it has caused in her life, has a mildly successful career in illustration for a magazine and a few book publishers. Though if she's adjusted to having another soul fused into hers is a whole other field of guess.
Other: Mildly allergic to bananas, grand daughter of Milo, still unaware as to who both of her parents are.
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Biography: Mel had an interesting childhood. She knew her parents for a total of 7 years, before they came to the conclusion they didn't want her and in one of her only memories left from that time period, dropped her off at a place calling it a "School" and never coming back. The school, in actuality, was an orphanage, and it was the closest she had to a home for 11 years.
Within that time period, Mel was bounced out of a few possibly adoptions as something always came up that "Wasn't quite right." One of the possibles however, introduced her to the thought of art as a method of living and that was a large thing that stuck with her when she finally stepped out on her own into the world.
When she hit 18, she left the orphanage, still on her own. She supported herself doing a few odd jobs before working up the courage to attempt attending an art school. With the aid of the government for funding, and a lot of scholarships she managed to get in and attend a low ball school to get a degree in Fine Arts.
In her second year, her drawing class managed to rent out a boat to take the decently small class out to some untouched islands for the sake of drawing. These little trips happened four times, and in the end, Mel had felt comfortable enough with the man running the ship to to just pop by on her own though she wasn't sure why.
During the summer between semesters, she had asked, in other words offered to pay, the man if he would drop her off on an island for a weekend so she could get some extra drawing stuff before the new semester. Half way there he had made a comment on about the water seeming a bit rough, and her response had been innocent enough.
"What's the worst that could happen?"
As it turns out, a lot could. After the man had dropped her out on the island, a typhoon had broke out. Seeking shelter from the storm, with raising waves that were crashing into the tree line, she moved inwards, following a path like strip done by animals. Some where along the way she had spotted an alcove and made a climb for it on the slicked rocks. That was when the lightning had struck, nailing into her like a demon banshee, and sending her down the rocks where instead of being met with pain, she was met with a sense of nothingness.
What happened next was something of fate and rarely, if ever, is spoken about. But it was the moment that she was greeted by her goddess, embraced into a family she didn't know she had. Now, at 23, Mel has adjusted to the loss of her legs and the need to use a wheelchair, and despite the complications it has caused in her life, has a mildly successful career in illustration for a magazine and a few book publishers. Though if she's adjusted to having another soul fused into hers is a whole other field of guess.
Other: Mildly allergic to bananas, grand daughter of Milo, still unaware as to who both of her parents are.
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Coro
Evil Overlord of the Rebellion
Name: Tybalt Hale
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Biography: Construction worker by day, underground fighter by night, Tybalt grew up a relatively privileged young man. Middle class family, white picket fence, where he decided he didn't want any of that anymore is beyond his parent's ability to discern. He had a bright future ahead of him too...
Around the age of 16, Tybalt dropped off the face of the map. He began living with an older friend, someone who knew his brother before the accident. Tybalt needed to get away from it all. The perfection of his family, even after what happened to his brother, it was too much. He couldn't stay in the house where his parents pretended he'd been their only child. Eventually, his friend got Tybalt a job with his place of work, a construction company that dealt very intimately with some shady characters. Tybalt had always been a big kid, with a smart head and quick feet. He began to work closely with some more unsavoury characters that happened by wherever he worked, usually around the time someone went missing. Coincidences do happen, after all.
It was around then that Tybalt discovered the underground fighting ring, introduced to it by one of his colleagues. A quick bet and a sign of his name got Tybalt into the ring, where he won, collecting more money than he'd made all month in return for a couple bruises.
With an unreal level of adrenaline coursing through his veins, and a spark reignited in his heart, Tybalt decided to continue down this self-destructive path, until he wizened up or died trying.
A recent development occurred, where Tybalt heard his brother's name whispered after a fight, down in the arena. It caught him off-guard. Thinking he'd finally escaped that part of his life, even now in the darkest depths of the underworld his brother's name still echoes in his ears. He's desperate to find out why.
Other: The two cherubs on his right arm, along with the Roman numeral 7, have a very significant meaning to him, and he DOES NOT take lightly to them being mocked. The latin phrase, meaning "unbowed in spirit", speaks of his determination and drive in life.
He really likes bananas.
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Biography: Construction worker by day, underground fighter by night, Tybalt grew up a relatively privileged young man. Middle class family, white picket fence, where he decided he didn't want any of that anymore is beyond his parent's ability to discern. He had a bright future ahead of him too...
Around the age of 16, Tybalt dropped off the face of the map. He began living with an older friend, someone who knew his brother before the accident. Tybalt needed to get away from it all. The perfection of his family, even after what happened to his brother, it was too much. He couldn't stay in the house where his parents pretended he'd been their only child. Eventually, his friend got Tybalt a job with his place of work, a construction company that dealt very intimately with some shady characters. Tybalt had always been a big kid, with a smart head and quick feet. He began to work closely with some more unsavoury characters that happened by wherever he worked, usually around the time someone went missing. Coincidences do happen, after all.
It was around then that Tybalt discovered the underground fighting ring, introduced to it by one of his colleagues. A quick bet and a sign of his name got Tybalt into the ring, where he won, collecting more money than he'd made all month in return for a couple bruises.
With an unreal level of adrenaline coursing through his veins, and a spark reignited in his heart, Tybalt decided to continue down this self-destructive path, until he wizened up or died trying.
A recent development occurred, where Tybalt heard his brother's name whispered after a fight, down in the arena. It caught him off-guard. Thinking he'd finally escaped that part of his life, even now in the darkest depths of the underworld his brother's name still echoes in his ears. He's desperate to find out why.
Other: The two cherubs on his right arm, along with the Roman numeral 7, have a very significant meaning to him, and he DOES NOT take lightly to them being mocked. The latin phrase, meaning "unbowed in spirit", speaks of his determination and drive in life.
He really likes bananas.
Goddess
Computer Nerd
Name: Jess Ribbon
Age: 30
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Biography: Jess had the typically school life. Elementary was nothing but jokes and pranks, middle school were small trifle things like pulling her hair or calling her outside of her name. High school were filled with pricks who did nothing but amuse themselves with racial slurs against her and sexual harassment. Surprisingly to all the counselors and teachers her grad pint average always remained higher than a 95. Most said she had a strong will or could care less with what the children said. Most claimed that she had stress but it didn't seem like it came from here. Every month her right eye would turn red and stay that way for several of weeks. She explained thoroughly to the nurse it was nothing like pink eye and it was not contagious. So while her high school career ended with very little friends , a lot of enemies and high grades, she graduated at the top of her class and was given 5,000 dollars to go toward collage.
Using the summer break as a vacation she was sent away to a resort in Hawaii. Most of her time was spent in the ocean, swimming and just floating about. The water soothed her and allowed the stress to leave her body. Though during her time in the water a man who did not like her race decided to act out of anger. Swimming over he had dunked Jess into the water, holding her head down. Flailing about she tired her best to arise back to the surface but the man was stronger than she was. This not only became a near life death situation but also a rather annoying fear had surfaced. After being helped by a few men who saw this action she was now afraid to go into the water let alone with a male. The other fear she had was against men. Most of her childhood the men were usually the main cause of her being bullied and now one had tried to kill her. This pesky fear had gotten in her way many times, like when she had to accept an award from a man. The thought of her touching him made her reject the award and have her friend hold it for her.
Years passed after her incident. Jess has known gain a large title and a big bonus after taking the job at a Game design company. Moving up the ranks with her ideas and vast imagination she was able to obtain the president seat. Her work has been sold world wide and the money she has is to much for her to even spend. She spends her time in a small apartment with a friend who was kicked out recently. Her fears pop up from then and their, making her unable to date or accept any affection from the opposite sex.
Other: She has a thing for sweets and meat. She can have a bad temper and can usually end an argument she lost with puffed up cheeks. Loves banana's
Age: 30
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Biography: Jess had the typically school life. Elementary was nothing but jokes and pranks, middle school were small trifle things like pulling her hair or calling her outside of her name. High school were filled with pricks who did nothing but amuse themselves with racial slurs against her and sexual harassment. Surprisingly to all the counselors and teachers her grad pint average always remained higher than a 95. Most said she had a strong will or could care less with what the children said. Most claimed that she had stress but it didn't seem like it came from here. Every month her right eye would turn red and stay that way for several of weeks. She explained thoroughly to the nurse it was nothing like pink eye and it was not contagious. So while her high school career ended with very little friends , a lot of enemies and high grades, she graduated at the top of her class and was given 5,000 dollars to go toward collage.
Using the summer break as a vacation she was sent away to a resort in Hawaii. Most of her time was spent in the ocean, swimming and just floating about. The water soothed her and allowed the stress to leave her body. Though during her time in the water a man who did not like her race decided to act out of anger. Swimming over he had dunked Jess into the water, holding her head down. Flailing about she tired her best to arise back to the surface but the man was stronger than she was. This not only became a near life death situation but also a rather annoying fear had surfaced. After being helped by a few men who saw this action she was now afraid to go into the water let alone with a male. The other fear she had was against men. Most of her childhood the men were usually the main cause of her being bullied and now one had tried to kill her. This pesky fear had gotten in her way many times, like when she had to accept an award from a man. The thought of her touching him made her reject the award and have her friend hold it for her.
Years passed after her incident. Jess has known gain a large title and a big bonus after taking the job at a Game design company. Moving up the ranks with her ideas and vast imagination she was able to obtain the president seat. Her work has been sold world wide and the money she has is to much for her to even spend. She spends her time in a small apartment with a friend who was kicked out recently. Her fears pop up from then and their, making her unable to date or accept any affection from the opposite sex.
Other: She has a thing for sweets and meat. She can have a bad temper and can usually end an argument she lost with puffed up cheeks. Loves banana's
Deathkitten
I am the Deathkitten! Fear me!
Name: Athena Marins
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Biography: Athena's Grandparents always had their heads in the clouds. They acted like the gods were real things, real people. From a very young age, the older man and woman had raised her, their own child, Athena's Mother, having failed miserably at the job. Athena's Mother and Father had overdosed on drugs when Athena was just 6 years old. She never really minded though, both her Mother and Father were very well off when it came to money, her Grandparents as well. Its all going to her as well, she is the only one on any of the wills.
Her Grandparents were always the best people in the world to her, even with their weird stories. They cared for her like she was their own child, and supported her in her endeavors. Their stories always had to do with their bloodline dating back to Gods... or something like that. It was just a children's story, to make her feel important and unique... Delusions of grandeur.
Her Grandparents got Athena a private tutor, to home school her in all her lessons. She was always very good at all the subjects except history. The things of the past never really interested her too much, with the exception of Greek mythology. She blames that on her Grandparents' stories. A year ago, she finished her lessons, making her Grandparents quite proud.
Just this year, not long before her birthday, her Grandfather passed away from old age. Her Grandmother is alive still, if lonely, and Athena helps in any way she can. She feels like something is off, but nothing weird has happened thus far. She turned 19 just a few weeks ago.
Other: Tends to have more money than she knows what to do with. Her family bloodline is close enough to the Gods to have the stories still in the collective memory. It won't affect her power really, just might be more fun socially. She's alright with bananas, but never really understood the deal with them.
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Biography: Athena's Grandparents always had their heads in the clouds. They acted like the gods were real things, real people. From a very young age, the older man and woman had raised her, their own child, Athena's Mother, having failed miserably at the job. Athena's Mother and Father had overdosed on drugs when Athena was just 6 years old. She never really minded though, both her Mother and Father were very well off when it came to money, her Grandparents as well. Its all going to her as well, she is the only one on any of the wills.
Her Grandparents were always the best people in the world to her, even with their weird stories. They cared for her like she was their own child, and supported her in her endeavors. Their stories always had to do with their bloodline dating back to Gods... or something like that. It was just a children's story, to make her feel important and unique... Delusions of grandeur.
Her Grandparents got Athena a private tutor, to home school her in all her lessons. She was always very good at all the subjects except history. The things of the past never really interested her too much, with the exception of Greek mythology. She blames that on her Grandparents' stories. A year ago, she finished her lessons, making her Grandparents quite proud.
Just this year, not long before her birthday, her Grandfather passed away from old age. Her Grandmother is alive still, if lonely, and Athena helps in any way she can. She feels like something is off, but nothing weird has happened thus far. She turned 19 just a few weeks ago.
Other: Tends to have more money than she knows what to do with. Her family bloodline is close enough to the Gods to have the stories still in the collective memory. It won't affect her power really, just might be more fun socially. She's alright with bananas, but never really understood the deal with them.
Last edited by a moderator:
Killigrew
Magnificent Humanicorn
Name: Erronius Fench
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Appearance: <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/happy.jpg.627b193df7672bf647180eca472590ce.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="14851" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/happy.jpg.627b193df7672bf647180eca472590ce.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Biography:
Erron has always been a nerd. He was born into a nerd family, where nerdiness reigned supreme, a world where whoever knew the most details about some High Fantasy story or other ruled supreme. His values were in tidbits of trivia, and this cost him grades throughout high school. Luckily, he managed a C- average overall, and was accepted into Community College, to the horror of his Master-Degree, Geneticist Father, and his Doctor mother.
He flunked out of Community college, still unable to focus in an academic environment when there were so many books in the library nearby. His parents kicked him out of the house when they heard, and Erron was left to fend for himself.
He got lucky. He met a journalist at a bar that was looking for an intern. Her name was Julia, and she took him on, as they shared the same interests in literature and art. She appreciated his extensive knowledge, and he gained a mentor, and a friend, the likes of which he'd only found in books before. It wasn't long before he was certain that he loved her, and told her so.
She laughed, and found another man that same night. Erron took it quietly. He knew more about books than the human heart, after all.
Now he continues his job as her paid intern, making minimum wage, and barely enough to pay rent. He frequents the library and continues to engage himself in the world of the imagination.
Other: His parents explained the strange spelling of his name as "The more errors you make, the closer you are to the right answer. That's the most valuable thing we can teach you."
Banana cream pie is his favorite dessert even though, he's not a huge fan of bananas.
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Appearance: <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/happy.jpg.627b193df7672bf647180eca472590ce.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="14851" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/happy.jpg.627b193df7672bf647180eca472590ce.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Biography:
Erron has always been a nerd. He was born into a nerd family, where nerdiness reigned supreme, a world where whoever knew the most details about some High Fantasy story or other ruled supreme. His values were in tidbits of trivia, and this cost him grades throughout high school. Luckily, he managed a C- average overall, and was accepted into Community College, to the horror of his Master-Degree, Geneticist Father, and his Doctor mother.
He flunked out of Community college, still unable to focus in an academic environment when there were so many books in the library nearby. His parents kicked him out of the house when they heard, and Erron was left to fend for himself.
He got lucky. He met a journalist at a bar that was looking for an intern. Her name was Julia, and she took him on, as they shared the same interests in literature and art. She appreciated his extensive knowledge, and he gained a mentor, and a friend, the likes of which he'd only found in books before. It wasn't long before he was certain that he loved her, and told her so.
She laughed, and found another man that same night. Erron took it quietly. He knew more about books than the human heart, after all.
Now he continues his job as her paid intern, making minimum wage, and barely enough to pay rent. He frequents the library and continues to engage himself in the world of the imagination.
Other: His parents explained the strange spelling of his name as "The more errors you make, the closer you are to the right answer. That's the most valuable thing we can teach you."
Banana cream pie is his favorite dessert even though, he's not a huge fan of bananas.
Attachments
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Chaotic
Retired Staff
Name: Eilum Syrane
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Appearance:<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/tumblr_meb3zub0ER1qzesjao1_500.gif.a34d84b7e153478d54d7cbf8d64bf58e.gif" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="14900" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/tumblr_meb3zub0ER1qzesjao1_500.gif.a34d84b7e153478d54d7cbf8d64bf58e.gif" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Biography: “Oh, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Right … I’m sick of hearing it.
I was an excellent student straight through high school and was destined for great things once I graduated. That was what I was told and what I believed. The son of a very well-to-do man and his trophy wife was entitled to such greatness and all I had to do was take it. HA!
College started off grand - attend class, game by night, study occasionally, and rake in the praise and rewards that were due to me. First semester found me quite celebrated for my scores and wit. Then everything went spiraling and quickly at that. You see, I found this girl … she was a pretty little thing and sharp as a tack. Gods how I loved her... It didn’t take long before I started to notice that she was just a bit off, however. She was a bit … wrong.
Youth will be stupid and illogical when faced with the myth that love exists, unfortunately, and that is where my shatter originated. I tried so desperately to pull her from the depths of her despair. I fought so valiantly for my very own fairytale damsel in distress. Gods damn me as a sentimental fool … I thought I could save her. I thought that loving her would be enough … and then I found her note.
She was gone. The bitch had decided to leave me in the worst way possible. Yes, I could live without her … I wasn’t so far gone to puppy love that I believed that wasn’t possible, but it would have been far easier to go on if I’d known that the world still had her in it …
Anyway … I fell into the depths that had once held her after she so unceremoniously erased herself from the world. Functionality fled me and there were weeks that would pass without me being aware. Hospital rooms and medication became things of habit rather than rare occurrences. Eventually, after several long months of treatment, I was granted the ability to leave after some haughty twit decided that while I was still bananas I was no longer a threat to myself or others. It was then that I locked myself away and began writing.
“There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of,” cooed my parents when I failed to hold down classes or a job. “You’ll make it through … we can cover rent …” That was a year and a half ago. Since then I’ve been little more than a parasite living off of their funds and working on half finished novels that will never actually manage to see the light of day. People have become things of story and rumor – beasts that I interact with only insomuch as survival demands – but that is fine. That is all I need. I’m …
…
It’s a bit strange. I thought to put that I was happy and when that registered to me as false I thought to put that I was alive. It strikes me as funny that even in the safety of this personal journal I feel the need to lie about such things. I’m not alive. I’m not happy. I exist …
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Appearance:<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/tumblr_meb3zub0ER1qzesjao1_500.gif.a34d84b7e153478d54d7cbf8d64bf58e.gif" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="14900" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/tumblr_meb3zub0ER1qzesjao1_500.gif.a34d84b7e153478d54d7cbf8d64bf58e.gif" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Biography: “Oh, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Right … I’m sick of hearing it.
I was an excellent student straight through high school and was destined for great things once I graduated. That was what I was told and what I believed. The son of a very well-to-do man and his trophy wife was entitled to such greatness and all I had to do was take it. HA!
College started off grand - attend class, game by night, study occasionally, and rake in the praise and rewards that were due to me. First semester found me quite celebrated for my scores and wit. Then everything went spiraling and quickly at that. You see, I found this girl … she was a pretty little thing and sharp as a tack. Gods how I loved her... It didn’t take long before I started to notice that she was just a bit off, however. She was a bit … wrong.
Youth will be stupid and illogical when faced with the myth that love exists, unfortunately, and that is where my shatter originated. I tried so desperately to pull her from the depths of her despair. I fought so valiantly for my very own fairytale damsel in distress. Gods damn me as a sentimental fool … I thought I could save her. I thought that loving her would be enough … and then I found her note.
“If you never manage to understand my reason, I beg that you at least try to understand that I did love you and have cherished every second that this hell has afforded us together.”
She was gone. The bitch had decided to leave me in the worst way possible. Yes, I could live without her … I wasn’t so far gone to puppy love that I believed that wasn’t possible, but it would have been far easier to go on if I’d known that the world still had her in it …
Anyway … I fell into the depths that had once held her after she so unceremoniously erased herself from the world. Functionality fled me and there were weeks that would pass without me being aware. Hospital rooms and medication became things of habit rather than rare occurrences. Eventually, after several long months of treatment, I was granted the ability to leave after some haughty twit decided that while I was still bananas I was no longer a threat to myself or others. It was then that I locked myself away and began writing.
“There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of,” cooed my parents when I failed to hold down classes or a job. “You’ll make it through … we can cover rent …” That was a year and a half ago. Since then I’ve been little more than a parasite living off of their funds and working on half finished novels that will never actually manage to see the light of day. People have become things of story and rumor – beasts that I interact with only insomuch as survival demands – but that is fine. That is all I need. I’m …
…
It’s a bit strange. I thought to put that I was happy and when that registered to me as false I thought to put that I was alive. It strikes me as funny that even in the safety of this personal journal I feel the need to lie about such things. I’m not alive. I’m not happy. I exist …
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Name: Azalea Morgan
Age: 9 years old
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Biography:
Children tend to see things adults can't comprehend. They tend to understand things from a simpler mindset and will bluntly tell you what's on their mind instead of speaking in riddles. Azalea was always like that. She would simply watch and stare at the world, nodding at times as if she understood what was happening around her. She wouldn't talk much, she was always a shy child. Always nervous around people more than things. It was easy to talk to animals, her stuffed mouse that no longer had a tail, even to people that can't be seen. If you told her that no one was there, she would only smile and shake her head. No more and no less. Azalea doesn't have to explain herself to anyone. Because everyone still views her as a child. A child with her imaginary friends in a lonely world where no one can reach her.
Adults would whisper softly, as if she couldn't hear them. They would talk about having her see doctors that could help her with her ”problems”. From how she saw it, adults were blind. They could only accept what was in front of them. They understood numbers better than they did details. If she told her mom about a new person she met at school, instead of asking, “What does their hair look like? What’s their favorite animal? Do they like to go swinging or maybe play on the jungle gym?” her mother would simply ask, “ How old are they? How many brothers do they have? What do their grades look like?”
They felt that if by having a number in their mind they can have a better understanding of someone’s personality and lifestyle.
That’s why Azalea barely talked to adults. That’s why she would run away from home so often. That’s the reason why her mommy hates her and daddy doesn't look at her. That’s why she spends most of her time in the backyard, speaking to people that don’t exist.
That’s why adults are mean.
Other:
The best way to get Azalea to ever open up is by reading her a story. No, not even by reading a story. By simple making one up right on the spot. She’ll sit down and be absorbed by the little characters and worlds that are made. The personalities of the villains and heroes. And that’s when she’ll start talking.
Age: 9 years old
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Biography:
Children tend to see things adults can't comprehend. They tend to understand things from a simpler mindset and will bluntly tell you what's on their mind instead of speaking in riddles. Azalea was always like that. She would simply watch and stare at the world, nodding at times as if she understood what was happening around her. She wouldn't talk much, she was always a shy child. Always nervous around people more than things. It was easy to talk to animals, her stuffed mouse that no longer had a tail, even to people that can't be seen. If you told her that no one was there, she would only smile and shake her head. No more and no less. Azalea doesn't have to explain herself to anyone. Because everyone still views her as a child. A child with her imaginary friends in a lonely world where no one can reach her.
Adults would whisper softly, as if she couldn't hear them. They would talk about having her see doctors that could help her with her ”problems”. From how she saw it, adults were blind. They could only accept what was in front of them. They understood numbers better than they did details. If she told her mom about a new person she met at school, instead of asking, “What does their hair look like? What’s their favorite animal? Do they like to go swinging or maybe play on the jungle gym?” her mother would simply ask, “ How old are they? How many brothers do they have? What do their grades look like?”
They felt that if by having a number in their mind they can have a better understanding of someone’s personality and lifestyle.
That’s why Azalea barely talked to adults. That’s why she would run away from home so often. That’s the reason why her mommy hates her and daddy doesn't look at her. That’s why she spends most of her time in the backyard, speaking to people that don’t exist.
That’s why adults are mean.
Other:
The best way to get Azalea to ever open up is by reading her a story. No, not even by reading a story. By simple making one up right on the spot. She’ll sit down and be absorbed by the little characters and worlds that are made. The personalities of the villains and heroes. And that’s when she’ll start talking.
Annuzzi
Servator
Name? My name is Michael, yes, Me-Kale, I know it's a bit strange, but I like it well enough. Oh, you want a last name? I am a Jones, unfortunately.
Age? Shortly, I shall be turning twenty one.
Gender: I hold no gender true, though medical wise I appear to be male.
Biography: When I was younger, I held a fondness for the colour yellow that was almost unhealthy. Granted, the environment I grew up in was equally as toxic as that colour is now. You see, I held it in high esteem as it seemed a happy colour, it held in it a peculiar sense of friendship and brightness. And so, from clothing, to bedroom walls, to play things, I wanted only yellow. I regret that choice now, to where I can't even look at simple banana and feel a sense of anger.
As absurd as it may seem, that anger, it serves the purpose of reminding me where I was sew, given life and shape and form. In solitude. True, I had parents, but they were always working, self worth and monetary gain all the seemed to care for. Father, I know was obsessed with trying to help those who couldn't help themselves, and for every one he couldn't save he grew colder. Mother was distant and treated my presence as more of a nuisance, as if her being pregnant with me had hindered her career enough to scorn me.
Ah well, that is how life goes. You think growing up in a place of wealth would be good until you actually have it. It's just as dysfunctional as everything else. Of course I was given a more liberal education and freedom of matters. I know who they are, I know who different family members are, and I know the point to all of it, and yet nothing at all. I've yet to hit, you see, and so for the time being I am but a failure in the eyes of my parents there as well. Oh, right, I've never mentioned the first true failure of me existence in their eyes.
I refused to become a lawyer, a professor, something of true purpose as they put it. Instead, I pursue a career as a surgeon, something they deemed too bloody and impractical, in two years time I shall be set to enter as more than an assistant, though I like that well enough. Their second disappointment in me was that I opted to not marry Oliva Keethers, someone they had planned, along with her parentals, to be a perfect match for me, someone to reign me in and reach true potential, as they put it. A tyrannical woman she was, obsessed with how she looked and acted, and by extension myself, violent and pompous when she didn't get her way. Utterly unattractive.
So, I believe that sums up everything, unless you'd like to know of private school escapades, secret lovers, wild fantasies, or any other trivial matters.
Other? Oh, yes, I'm allergic to mint leaves and the smell of baby powder makes me retch. Does that satisfy you?
Thail264
New Member
Name: Thail Redthorn
Age:23
Gender: M
Appearance: <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/57a8bef5ccd6f_Characterforrp.PNG.36a4b0a74cc1c8642e59df4988a454f0.PNG" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="15300" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/57a8bef5ccd6f_Characterforrp.PNG.36a4b0a74cc1c8642e59df4988a454f0.PNG" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
(Yea sorry about the MC picture, i couldnt find anything that fits me, just think hes a average human..)
Biography: Well how do you begin such a tale of him...well lets begin..
Born and raised very, very bland life, Thail was the only one in his family that thought about how he was going to live his life, he was only a single child at the time. But his parents never liked the fact that he wanted to do his own things, and not what the parents wanted him to. He learned while he was young how to fend for himself (due to the fact he alot of the time ran away for an "adventure") But anyway, back to the story.
Thail was never born in a rich family, but not a poor one, no he lived as a normal person, getting good grades and what not, his favorite passion was video games, which was an unhealthy addiction. But he wasnt too addicted to it, He also did archery, Gathering, hunting, he was also good with technology which makes him invaluable.
Personallity: Kind, thoughtful, smart, brave, arrogant (sometimes).
With that in mind, heres his fears and what not
Fears: Medical needles, Spiders, Bugs, Freakish things, giant things.
Likes: Popcorn,blue, all types of food (except certain Vegetables)
Other: Well i have a few things, im very fragile ( i cant take harm well), always hyper (due to ADHD), and finally my mind doesnt crack easy.
Age:23
Gender: M
Appearance: <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/57a8bef5ccd6f_Characterforrp.PNG.36a4b0a74cc1c8642e59df4988a454f0.PNG" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="15300" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_03/57a8bef5ccd6f_Characterforrp.PNG.36a4b0a74cc1c8642e59df4988a454f0.PNG" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
(Yea sorry about the MC picture, i couldnt find anything that fits me, just think hes a average human..)
Biography: Well how do you begin such a tale of him...well lets begin..
Born and raised very, very bland life, Thail was the only one in his family that thought about how he was going to live his life, he was only a single child at the time. But his parents never liked the fact that he wanted to do his own things, and not what the parents wanted him to. He learned while he was young how to fend for himself (due to the fact he alot of the time ran away for an "adventure") But anyway, back to the story.
Thail was never born in a rich family, but not a poor one, no he lived as a normal person, getting good grades and what not, his favorite passion was video games, which was an unhealthy addiction. But he wasnt too addicted to it, He also did archery, Gathering, hunting, he was also good with technology which makes him invaluable.
Personallity: Kind, thoughtful, smart, brave, arrogant (sometimes).
With that in mind, heres his fears and what not
Fears: Medical needles, Spiders, Bugs, Freakish things, giant things.
Likes: Popcorn,blue, all types of food (except certain Vegetables)
Other: Well i have a few things, im very fragile ( i cant take harm well), always hyper (due to ADHD), and finally my mind doesnt crack easy.
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Ozmic
Whiskered Writer
Name: Gregory Edward Angelus
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Biography: Hell, where do I begin? I was born about forty years ago to a loving mother and a father who went to great lengths not to be around. My ma' did the best she could to raise me and, honestly, I'd hate to say she did that piss-poor of a job. I grew up, tried my hand at college and dropped out, then got into the construction business with a buddy and didn't look back until I met my wife. Hell, I don't think the flames of hell could make me forget that day. Made it all the harder when she passed, leaving me to raise my daughter the same way I was raised, in a single parent home.
Either way, up until whatever happened five years back, things were great and normal. Freak accident with the power at a jobsite landed me outta' work, but thankfully still alive. As little as I can remember, people keep telling me just lucky I am. See, I got hit pretty bad. So bad that people swore I was dead. But, just the same, I woke up later with my daughter holding my hand and nothing wrong with me... physically that is. But since then, my brain's been goin' a mile a minute and I can't stand setting foot on a job site anymore.
So, with my daughter's eh... (over)encouragement, I got into writing novels and moved away from it all. Managed to find some success too, believe it or not. Some half over-the-hill jackass from nowhere makes it big overnight. Who'd have thought, right? Helluva way to bring in the bananas... dumb luck. Guess there's somebody out there smiling down on me. That, or whatever happened on that job site filled my brain with crazy ideas. Divine intervention or science? Hell... might just be a good idea for my next book.
Other: He's a bit of a silent type of guy, keeps to himself a lot, but once you break the outer shell he's surprising easy to talk to. A true weaver of stories and conversation alike. Despite his age, he's rather well built and has kept himself in great shape, despite living on a beach somewhere. Rumored to live the lifestyle of a celebrity, but in reality he stays out've the limelight and lets his books do the talking.
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Biography: Hell, where do I begin? I was born about forty years ago to a loving mother and a father who went to great lengths not to be around. My ma' did the best she could to raise me and, honestly, I'd hate to say she did that piss-poor of a job. I grew up, tried my hand at college and dropped out, then got into the construction business with a buddy and didn't look back until I met my wife. Hell, I don't think the flames of hell could make me forget that day. Made it all the harder when she passed, leaving me to raise my daughter the same way I was raised, in a single parent home.
Either way, up until whatever happened five years back, things were great and normal. Freak accident with the power at a jobsite landed me outta' work, but thankfully still alive. As little as I can remember, people keep telling me just lucky I am. See, I got hit pretty bad. So bad that people swore I was dead. But, just the same, I woke up later with my daughter holding my hand and nothing wrong with me... physically that is. But since then, my brain's been goin' a mile a minute and I can't stand setting foot on a job site anymore.
So, with my daughter's eh... (over)encouragement, I got into writing novels and moved away from it all. Managed to find some success too, believe it or not. Some half over-the-hill jackass from nowhere makes it big overnight. Who'd have thought, right? Helluva way to bring in the bananas... dumb luck. Guess there's somebody out there smiling down on me. That, or whatever happened on that job site filled my brain with crazy ideas. Divine intervention or science? Hell... might just be a good idea for my next book.
Other: He's a bit of a silent type of guy, keeps to himself a lot, but once you break the outer shell he's surprising easy to talk to. A true weaver of stories and conversation alike. Despite his age, he's rather well built and has kept himself in great shape, despite living on a beach somewhere. Rumored to live the lifestyle of a celebrity, but in reality he stays out've the limelight and lets his books do the talking.
NateMasters
New Member
Name: Nathan Masters
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance:
6"3, blue eyes. He only has a tribal tattoo in his left arm.
Biography: Nate comes from a really poor family, that completely depends on him. They tried to pay for his career but they couldn't, and since his father's dead, Nate took the responsibility on his hands. He promised to himself that he would give his family the life they deserved. And so he did. He found this little place underground where people fought for money. He signed up at the age of 18 and since then he has been fighting. He liked to say that he's doing it for his family, but he know he loves the feeling of adrenaline that those fights give him.
He works in a restaurant in the morning, just to get some extra money for himself. He loves both of his jobs, but he really wishes to start his career in tissue engineering..
He thought his life was perfect till recently his mother told him they found him dying in a thrash can. This shocked him a lot, and he's now trying to find his biological family.
He's never been defeated in the ring, and that's what keeps him going. All his childhood is a blank space in Nathan's memory, a blank he's willing to fill really soon.
Other: He loves to sing and to play any instrument. He got his tribal tattoo when he was 19. It symbolizes his family, not only his biological but also his foster family. If you laugh at his tattoo, or mess with his family, you better run, because you may not be able to tell the story.
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Biography: Nate comes from a really poor family, that completely depends on him. They tried to pay for his career but they couldn't, and since his father's dead, Nate took the responsibility on his hands. He promised to himself that he would give his family the life they deserved. And so he did. He found this little place underground where people fought for money. He signed up at the age of 18 and since then he has been fighting. He liked to say that he's doing it for his family, but he know he loves the feeling of adrenaline that those fights give him.
He works in a restaurant in the morning, just to get some extra money for himself. He loves both of his jobs, but he really wishes to start his career in tissue engineering..
He thought his life was perfect till recently his mother told him they found him dying in a thrash can. This shocked him a lot, and he's now trying to find his biological family.
He's never been defeated in the ring, and that's what keeps him going. All his childhood is a blank space in Nathan's memory, a blank he's willing to fill really soon.
Other: He loves to sing and to play any instrument. He got his tribal tattoo when he was 19. It symbolizes his family, not only his biological but also his foster family. If you laugh at his tattoo, or mess with his family, you better run, because you may not be able to tell the story.
Ricia
Retired M
Name: Lauren "Ren" Pennager
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Biography: I would like to think my childhood was standard... school, friends, a pet dog, annoying little brother, happy parents who fought sometimes. Okay, they actually fought all the time. Around the age of... Gee I don't know... thirteen? Mom and Dad split, dividing my brother and I between them. I went with my father, moving as far away as he thought he could possibly get from our mother. No we didn't get the dog, the fluff ball actually went with my Mom.
The new school was hard. There were a lot of bullies and dealing with the whole divorce was hard. My dad was trying to pretend he was fine, but he really wasn't. Lucky for me he didn't turn into a drunk or anything, he just got a new job and tried to work his sorrows away.
I did eventually make friends later, but before that I remember one thing specifically during my middle school year that had changed my life. I was invited out to this pool party with a whole bunch of people... I thought this would be a great chance to get to know others. It turns out I was just meant to be the end of a bad joke. I ended up in the ER that night because I almost died drowning.
I have Aqua-phobia now.
On the positive side, people stopped picking on me and just avoided me after that. Things started to look up after that because my dad got a new job and we moved over a town. It wasn't too far, but far enough to put me into a new school. I had better luck adapting in this school then I did the other. I was always eager to please my new friends and teachers. It is exciting, to fit in, to belong to a group.
I didn't know what I wanted to do when I got out of High School... but my Dad made me go to college anyway. I tried a few things out while I worked part time at the school library. Business, liberal arts, music, medical, science, computers. I liked all of it but I never developed a passion for it. Oh I did pick up the violin.
I eventually did graduate with a Bachelor of General Studies... but I still had no idea what to do. However I did know it was time for me to move out. I found a place somewhere in the middle of town and I ended up getting a full time job at that fancy lunch-in cafe as a cook, lucky for me it was in walking distance. After working there for a while, they liked me so much they gave me a scholarship to go to culinary school.
So that is what I am doing now... Cooking, going to school again... living I guess?
